Fangirl
by stolen with the night
Summary: Of all the aliens, of all the species on Earth, in our galaxy, in the whole multiverse and in every dimension and world, the most terrifying creature of them all, is the Fangirl. Especially one of the Doctor Who fandom, dropped into the Whoniverse. Be afraid, be very afraid. Run, hide and don't be surprised if she wants your picture and autograph.


The professional fan girl was not a rare species, much to many working class citizens dismay. What many people did not know was how complex the psyche of this particular breed of human females are. Case in point, we now observe an exceptional subject, the wild Australian fan girl in her natural habitat. Observe the dark room, the many electronic devices- all plugged in and charging- their screens illuminating all four walls with an eerie blue glow. So used to this particular form of light, the fan girl may, in some cases, forget what the sun is and upon seeing it, recoil from its rays.

Legend has it that a fan girl from many centuries ago, stayed in her room reading erotic novels generally banned from the public for so long she hissed upon seeing the light of day again. Thus the nature of vampires were born.

It can be drawn from the pale skin and grubby nature of this fan girl, that she is not quite of the shut-in variety. This breed of fan girl could potentially be the most common and a side companion to the more sociable breed of fan girl that is the balanced fan girl. This kind is able to find that harmony between life and fantasy while still having her soul basically consumed by whatever fandom she is in.

Please take in the many posters that litter the walls, the miniature action figures, the official merchandise of different franchises, the empty cups of coffee, half eaten Doritos and the hunched form swaddled in thick blankets and sobbing her heart out. This fan girl is me.

Fan-girling is a difficult occupation. It isn't just scrolling endlessly through Tumblr just to get a new fix for your favorite show or book series. It's not constantly being on the look out for new pictures of your favorite celebrities without shirts on. Or showing up to comic con a full forty-eight hours ahead of time so could get a great seat at a panel and eating those dry nut bars for all that time instead of real food in fear of losing your seat. No, it was all of those things and more.

"Oh god," I sob, clutching at my chest. "It hurts so bad. I need to watch it again." It was with complete reverence that I click the replay button on YouTube. Watching Loki cry was too beautiful.

Being a fan girl was thinking about the 'what if's' in a plot, sitting at the edge of your seat and cursing the writers for leaving you on a cliff hanger. It was about connecting with characters and shipping them with others. It gets to the point where you find yourself shipping people in real life. It's when you accidentally find yourself flirting with someone and you slip in references.

It's when normal fashion sort of just flies right out the window and you find yourself wearing shirts with references or you end up dressing like your characters. It's watching all the interviews for your actors, searching up fan art for your OTP and watching all the little moments between your ships on YouTube with cute and emotional music playing in the background.

It's sneaking references in school work or when you find yourself torn between hanging out with your friends and having that Lord of the Rings marathon you've been meaning to do. It was that small spark of rage at someone insulting a fictional character of yours and the need to defend their actions. It was yelling at a screen as if you could somehow sway them.

It was holing yourself in your room when you saw Sherlock throw himself off a building with nothing but a large tub of ice-cream and mascara tracks down your cheeks. It was about jumping on Tumblr quickly after watching the episode to mourn with others just like you. It was about getting more upset over a characters death than a person in real life and feeling guilty about it.

It was instantly connecting with someone because they were in the same fandom as you. It was about seeing someone with a Chewbacca key chain and making eye contact and thinking 'is this my new friend?' It was about knowing all the words to the opening songs. It was about complaining over the long wait until the next season, movie, book, song or meet up.

But most of all, it was ignoring reality and immersing yourself in a world you could relate to. It was finding yourself in characters or letting characters change the way you see the world. It was about dreaming something like that would happen to you and wanting so badly to comfort someone that doesn't exist. There were times being a fan was painful, when you wanted to let a tired someone lean on you and knew they couldn't because they just didn't exist.

I was, of course, the exact same. With purpose I brought up a hand up to scrub at my tear stained face. "Gah, that's enough of that."

Muttering about the unfairness of the world I exited my browser and shoved a candy corn piece into my mouth before taking a sip of mountain dew and swiveling around in my computer chair to face the bookcase of DVD's that was stationed across from my messy bed. Letting my grey eyes float across the titles, my thoughts centered on what I should watch next.

"Maybe I should just read fan-fiction?" I ask the air beside the bookcase. To be honest, I had been re-watching all my favorites in hopes it would keep me occupied until the ninth series of Doctor Who came out in September. I had many months until it's first episode release. "Or..." I drawled, "I can rewatch Doctor Who from season one. Again."

It was a nod to my lack of actual conversation partners when I was perfectly comfortable talking to myself. On that thought the opening to Supernatural, Carry on my Wayward Son, echoed around my dark room, jolting me out of my own mind. Throwing the blanket off myself I leaped after the ringing phone with desperation, eager to distract myself from boredom.

Staring at the name on the screen, I smiled and swiped a finger across the bar to accept the call. "Hello, this is your local funeral directory. You gag 'em, we slab 'em. How may I help you?" I answered in a professional tone. The one that's so absorbed with false happiness you almost want to wince.

There was a silence across the line before, _"Oh god you need a life."_

Huffing a breathless laugh, I took my phone off its charger before looking around for my glasses. "I was going to go for the city morgue one, but thought it was a little over used. You're lucky."

 _"So I am, so I am."_ Came the humored reply as I finally caught sight of my big framed, circle spectacles and shoved them carelessly on the bridge of my nose, my eye sight somewhat faulty from my child hood days of reading in poor lighting. Not much had changed since then. I was only too happy to get glasses when the time came, courtesy of my obsession with Harry Potter.

Rolling my eyes I asked, "Is there a reason you called, Chaos?"

There was another laugh, _"What? I can't just want to hear your beautiful voice, Terror?"_

Of course, her name wasn't actually Chaos. It was Kaoz but pronounced very similarly. Kaoz's father was a theoretical astrophysicist who named her after the Chaos theory, more commonly known as the butterfly effect. It was a constant point of discussion between us when her father would spout on about how his little girl was ultimately affecting the world around her by doing the smallest things. She liked to point out that so was everyone else. But, proud fathers would be proud fathers.

Naturally, my name wasn't actually Terror either. Only someone truly punk would call their child something like that. My real name was Terra-Leigh. Terra as in Latin for earth, that highland on the moon or that NASA research satellite, I wasn't really sure. Leigh as in Leigh Harline, the composer of the many, many Disney songs my late teenage mother was obsessed with at the time. Like 'When you wish upon a star' and Snow white.

As a child my name was too long for my princess-y needs and I introduced myself as just Terra, some people misheard and before long everyone just assumed my name was Terror. Kaoz came along, she was thrilled someone else had a metal name like hers. It took me all of snack time to explain to her that Terror wasn't my name. This only made her more happy because of how mispronounced her own name was.

"Kay-ozz! Not Chaos!" Little Kaoz would stress.

In Kaoz I found a friend who would like me despite our differences and before long- and no matter how hard we tried to get them to pronounce it right- we became Chaos and Terror. It got to the point where we just started accepting the fact that we were going to be forever associated with punk bands and occult meetings on a full moon where we pranced about naked singing praises to god knows what.

"No you can't, because everyone knows you don't have time to be calling people out of the blue." I grumble without any heat. Despite what we say about each other we knew both our schedules were rather heavily packed. We both had classes, Kaoz studying English to teach professionally and myself taking a bridging course in Chemistry so I could study medicine the following year.

We both had jobs, both working to pay for our tuition. There was family to visit, our own personal hobbies and our time tables clashed periodically. We just couldn't catch each other at the right time. So while she was busy, I watched television shows, read books and fan-fiction and enjoyed the internet. While I was busy, she did whatever it was that she did, which was more than likely, try to pick up boys. She liked to complain about her lack of 'male action.'

Kaoz hummed thoughtfully, " _Well,"_ she drawled. _"I was hoping that you weren't busy so we could catch up. Maybe see a movie? Or we could just sit at a cafe, eat and complain about our lives- well, I'll complain about my life. You can complain about the disastrous situation one of your fandoms is in at the moment."_ She added with a snicker.

"You know me so well." I stated with faux seriousness. "As for how much free time I have..." I trailed off looking into the mirror hanging on my wall. Mahogany hair was mused and matted from not having enough time to brush it, skin so pale it made the shadows under my eyes from lack of sleep stand out like an American tourist in Japan, still dressed in the large shirt, biker shorts and fluffy pink socks that served as my pajamas and of course, my lips were chapped from the air con. _Wonderful._

Tugging on my hair, I sighed. "I look like shit, how long are you willing to give me to get decent? Whether I am free or not depends on your answer. Be careful with your words young Chaos bringer."

There was exasperated groan and I could almost feel her eyes roll. " _Right, no more T.V for you I think, you need the day away from your room, your job and class. So I'm going to give you all of fifteen minutes to get ready and you're not getting out of it because I'm already a few streets away from your apartment."_ Came the teasing, almost smug reply.

I knew better than to believe she was down playing the distance, it was Kaoz, she was most definitely on her way. "Right, got cha. I'll get ready now. Love you." Our conversations always ended this way, even when we were arguing- no matter how rare it was.

 _"Love you more!"_ Kaoz trilled happily. She was no doubt, skipping her way to me with some form musical of number going on in the background like one of those B movies. Kaoz was just the kind of girl that could will her life into being something straight from the silver screen and when I say will, I mean threaten with a sickly sweat voice. She was good at that.

Dropping my phone on the bed, I could only stare despondently at my reflection, too lazy to do anything make at myself. With a groan I decided it was probably best that I don't upset Kaoz. Knowing her she would probably strip me down and dress me herself. Sliding open my wardrobe I pulled out a white long sleeved blouse and a brown vest to go with it. After that I threw on my favorite pair of denim mini shorts and pulled on knee length, rainbow socks and a pair of black and white chucks.

Making my way into the tiny bathroom of my apartment I quickly ran a brush through the tangled mess that was my hair, watching the straight strands hang limply around my oval face. "Are you serious?" I growl at the strands, "Of all the days to look like soggy noodles, you choose the one day I am forced to go out." I was sure my hair was sentient.

Scrunching up my hair at the roots, I attempted to bring it some volume, to no avail. "Fine!" I gave up in annoyance, instead brushing my hair to the side of my shoulder to put it in a low half braid, only making four plaits before tying it off with a ribbon and letting the remaining tail flow down my chest to end beside my rib cage.

Taking a peep in the mirror once more I decided just to dab a bit of concealer under my eyes and let my glasses do the rest. After that is was a matter of a swipe of chap-stick, throwing my phone, I-pod, wallet, money and other essentials in a side bag for me and I was locked and loaded.

If the crash of a door opening dramatically didn't tell me who was bowling into my apartment, then the sarcastic, "Honey I'm home!" Definitely did. It was followed by and equally sarcastic laugh and tone, "Oh wait, you and I don't have boyfriends."

"Don't need 'em!" I yell from my bedroom before exiting the room to jump into the arms of my best friend. "I've missed you so much!"

"Of course you did." Kaoz simpered. Her dark hair was pulled up into a messy bun to show off the chaos tattoo on her neck. It was done on a whim, the eight arrows aligned in a radial pattern that symbolized the opposition of ordered law.

Fanning herself over my shoulder she pushed herself off me, "God it's insanely hot outside, thank god you have the air con on." I gave a smile as she looked me over, knowing what was coming, "How is it that you manage to dress like an old mans greatest school girl fantasy and still look like someone who you should take seriously?" She asked, giving one of her famous backhanded compliments.

"Are you saying I look like a prostitute?" I ask with mock offense.

She smirked, not missing a beat. "I'm saying you're a mini skirt away from looking like you stepped out of the movie Sucker Punch. I mean," She waved a hand, "It makes you look both twelve _and_ old enough to host a costumed sex themed party." She looked inspired, "We should do that one day."

I was far too used to her ways, if I were anyone else I would probably have balked. Instead I gave her an indifferent shrug, that was the trick to dealing with Kaoz's many ideas that revolved around her getting a boyfriend or something odd. If you encouraged it, you'd probably end up somewhere in a jail cell, sitting beside her. If you tried to discourage it, you'd be the one bailing her out. If you did neither, the idea of hers would slip from her mind eventually.

"So what's today's plan?" I ask, swinging my bag over my shoulder, ready to leave.

"Food." She answered with a decisive nod. "Definitely food, then whatever we feel like doing."

Opening the door for her, I let her out and rustled out my keys before locking up at turning to her. "So basically, we have no plan."

She was quick to agree with me, "Pretty much, yeah."

My apartment was located on one of the higher levels, which would have been a decent thing if the elevator wasn't under constant repair. This meant having to climb up and down four flights of stairs while exhausted or early in the morning, though I couldn't complain, it was really the only exercise I got anymore. My job hadn't needed me to stand about for a year or two now as I had risen through the ranks since first getting it as a casual worker at fifteen. I worked as a waitress at a restaurant before getting the position of assistant manager four years later, where all I did was take care of paper work, recruit more workers and deal with difficult employees and customers.

Walking down the stairs the two of us tittered on about the goings on of our lives. She was still boy-friendless. I was still drowning in work to complete. She hated one of her teachers. We both needed to see Pitch Perfect 2 and I was driving myself insane waiting for the new season of Doctor Who. "I just want it to come out already!" I stress.

Kaoz shrugged, "Have you tried having a Star Wars marathon? That usually works for you when waiting out a new season."

The streets were bare as we waited at the bus stop outside my apartment building. Nothing but the harsh rays of sun and our voices. I pouted, "It was the first thing I tried. But with the Christmas episode, it left me on such a high note, you know?"

"Yup, sort of like when you start flirting with a hot guy and you give him your number and the wait is just a killer." She said with a nod.

I giggled, throwing my arm around her shoulder and in return she wound hers around my own. Kaoz may not have liked the stuff I did but she understood me, which was more than I can say about most with the exception of my online friends whose faces I didn't know. "Yes, exactly like that."

The silence was comforting until it was interrupted by the first lines of 'Carry on my Wayward son.' Taking my arm from Kaoz's shoulder I unzipped my shoulder purse to dig for my phone, panicking when I saw my bosses name appear. "Shit, shit, shit!" The phone tumbled from my hands and on to the street, without thinking I stepped off the side walk to crouch down and pick it up.

It was a bit like the movies, where all the sound in the world becomes distant and what stands out the most is the sound of your own breath. In the background there was someone screaming my name, Kaoz probably. You're always annoyed at the one person who stands like an idiot before an oncoming car, but the truth is, it's hard to look away from deaths eyes. The car wasn't slowing down but I could see the drivers pale face and knowing, distraught eyes locked on to mine. Three seconds of eye contact seemed like an eternity before the light in my world disappeared.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Light slowly seeped through my vision and I awoke to noise all around me. A combination of voices talking loudly, people rushing about and the beeping of machines. Blinking my eyes open, I could only watch in confusion as Kaoz spoke to a police officer, her arms waving around in agitation. The image of my best friend was suddenly blocked by a male form.

Peering up into brown eyes, I croaked, "What's going on?"

The smile I received was of the reassuring variety. "Hello there, I'm Doctor Astley. Do you know where you are?" He spoke with an English accent.

It wasn't hard to tell with the scent of antiseptic and chemicals assaulting my nose and stirring up a headache along with the heart monitors and white walls. "Yeah, I'm in a hospital." I answer with distaste. I wanted to be in hospitals for an entirely different reason that didn't involve me in a bed.

Dr. Asterly chuckled kindly, he was quite handsome with dark hair and tan skin, looking far more like a model dressed as a doctor for a commercial than a real man with years of medical school under his belt. "Do you mind if ask you a few questions?" He asked as he clicked open a pen to hover over a clip board.

I lazily waved a hand before dropping it to the hospital bed I lay on, "Fire away."

He nodded but was momentarily distracted as Kaoz came to sit down beside me, her cheeks streaked with dried tears. She took my hand and gave it a quick squeeze, "Hey." Her voice was rough with emotion causing me to tear up. Kaoz never cried and it was enough to scare me the slightest bit.

"Hey." I greet back, holding her hand tight. "You okay?"

She gave a quivered laugh. "Aren't I supposed to be the one asking _you_ that?" She asked rhetorically, sniffling lightly.

I shook my head and quickly regretted when pain reared. "Not when you crying scares me more than being hit by a car." I answered with a grimace.

It was apparently the wrong thing to say as a fresh wave of tears rolled down her cheek and her body spasm-ed with more sobs. She looked horrible, worse than I felt. Her green eyes were puffy and rimmed with red, whatever makeup she may have worn hours ago was washed away by her own tears. Kaoz was not a pretty crier, no, she was a guilt crier. The kind that made you feel so guilty for having anything to do with her sadness.

She batted away my hands that had moved to give her comfort. "No, no, ask your questions Doctor. I'm just being silly." She spoke with a rough laugh, sniffling and digging her palms into her eyes.

Dr. Asterly, bless his soul, gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze and hunched to look into her eyes. "You're not being silly. If it were my best friend in that bed I would have knocked out the doctor treating them, called them incompetent and took over the position myself." He paused with a laugh, "So, you're doing fine."

She peeked up through the slits of her fingers, "Really?"

He grinned at her, "Really."

They sat there for a moment just smiling at each other and it was too good of a moment to resist. I almost died and here they were having a moment with each other. _I was so proud of her._ "You would have cute babies." I state with a shit eating grin, because, _yes,_ they _would_ have cute babies. "Your oldest daughter has to be named after me, because, you know, you wouldn't have met if not for me almost dying and all."

If Kaoz was upset at me almost dying, she was now upset at me for _not_ dying. From behind the sheepish looking doctor she scrunched up her face and made a pummeling motion with her hands which loosely translated to 'How dare you stop my love-love moments with my future husband! I stuck by your side through puberty, _puberty._ Do you _know_ what twelve year old _you_ was like?!' Or something like that, my hand gesture reading was a little off these days.

Dr. Asterly coughed, making me realize I was still grinning like the little Satan's incarnate that Kaoz would later claim I was. "Do go on, Doctor." I smiled innocently.

"Your full name please." He requested with an equally bright smile, no doubt amused and embarrassed but coping wonderfully. It was so good to be in this position. Usually it was me stuttering like an uneducated chicken in front of a mass of people while Kaoz stood at the back like the little sarcastic shit she was on occasion.

"Terra-Leigh Terrell Thomas. Terra as in Latin for earth, the highland on the moon or the NASA satellite, I'm not sure. Leigh as in Leigh Harline, the Disney composer that my mother was obsessed with. Terrell as in my parents didn't understand that Terrell is a shortened form of my first names and therefore shouldn't have been my middle name and Thomas, as in my fathers last name." I say the well rehearsed introduction. "Terra-Leigh, not Terror and never Miss Thomas. Only my loved ones and my enemies call me Terror."

"Yeah," Kaoz giggled, looking at Dr. Asterly's gaping expression, "That is _actually_ how she introduces herself. And no, she does not have enemies."

"Wow," He breathed, "Okay. Well, I'm not your enemy and I hardly count as one of your loved ones so I guess it's-"

I was quick to cut him off. "You can call me Terror on the condition that you take my friend out to dinner some time. She's a future teacher, English teacher, that is. She likes going on weird health diets, going to the movies and throwing popcorn down the aisles. She dislikes propaganda that doesn't play in her favor, which kind of makes her a hypocrite," I muse. "But, she has a heart made of gold when she chooses to show it and when I say gold, I mean gold titanium alloy because she will _hurt_ a twat if you mess with the ones she loves." I chuckle nervously, "Trust me I know. She- she's, always been there for me."

Dr. Asterly smiled warmly at me, even as Kaoz buried her face into her hands, probably out of embarrassment- yup, I could see the pink of her neck. "Well then, _Terror,_ shall we continue?" Kaoz could thank me later for maybe scoring her a future date. Or kill me, you never really knew with her.

I nodded with a satisfied smile, shooting Kaoz a pointed look and receiving the bird in return.

"May I ask how old you are and what your date of birth is?" He asked politely.

"Certainly. I'm nineteen and was born on the eighteenth of January in nineteen-ninety-six." I chirp, not in the least offended.

Kaoz's head snapped to the doctor and gave him a meaningful stare but Dr. Asterly didn't look her way, instead his body line hardened and he frowned the slightest bit. He was obviously trained to look casual as he immediately relaxed his muscles and only gave a bland smile and a small, "I see." But I had already caught it, something was wrong but I couldn't see what the problem was. I hadn't said anything unusual.

He scribbled something down on the clip board he held. "Could you please tell me the date, Miss Tho- Terror."

Nodding slowly, still confused. "Yeah, uh, it's the sixth of May."

A shocked gasp flew from Kaoz's mouth and her hands flew to her lips to contain any more sounds, startling me. "The full date, please." Dr. Asterly requested.

A fraction of fear niggled at my spine. "The sixth of May, two thousand and fifteen," I croak. The horrified and concerned looks I received caused panic to well up within me. I could only think of one reason as to why they were shocked by my answer and that was: my answer was wrong. Fear made it impossible to ask why my answer was wrong, fear and disbelief. Just this morning I had been staring at my I-pod at the date, I couldn't be wrong. How long had I been asleep for, had I been in a coma? But that couldn't be right, the doctor wouldn't have looked so surprised that my dates didn't match up if I had been.

"No, no, no, no. Don't be so surprised." I shook my head in denial, "It's the sixth of May, four days from now is mothers day. I've already got my mum a gift. One of those fancy cook book stands that she's always wanted. Every year she goes on about them despite the fact that she own many cook books and never reads them, she doesn't even cook often." I add with a chuckle.

"Oh god Terra," Kaoz breathed, not using my nickname and subsequently letting me know that something was terribly wrong. She only ever used my name if she was concerned for me and my full name when she was mad at me. "What's wrong with her?" She demanded, distraught. "The nurses said she was fine!"

Dr. Asterly came forward to run gentle fingers on my skull, prodding at different spots. Surprisingly, and despite my headache, it didn't hurt in the least making it obvious my pounding head wasn't related to a physical injury. When this became apparent, the doctor pulled out a pen light and shone it in my eyes, having me follow along. "Pupils dilate perfectly." He murmured, more to himself than anything.

"And your speech is unhindered, are you feeling any weakness in your muscles?" He asked me.

I exhaled heavily, "No." I answered honestly.

"Do you have any difficulty concentrating? Are you feeling sluggish or drowsy? Any sensitivity to light or blurred vision? A headache?" He steam lined, full medical man mode activated.

I was beginning to feel agitated, my bout of fear leaving me. "No, no, no and yes."

"Then you more than likely have a concussion, which would explain your confusion." He turned to Kaoz who looked relieved to know what was wrong. "I can't do much for that other than to prescribe some pain relief pills and send her on her way. Keep watch over her tonight, wake her every two to three hours. If her confusion doesn't die down by tomorrow night, bring her back but to perfectly honest, it happens often and I don't think it will be a problem."

"So," I start, slightly irritated but catching on, "I have a concussion. What confusion? Did I say something wrong?"

"Could you give us a moment, doctor?" Kaoz requests without looking at me. When the Dr. Asterly does leave with an understanding nod and a promise to be back soon, she finally looks at me. "Terra sweetheart, it's the first of January..."

"Okay." Obviously, I was concussed and had the date wrong. _That's okay, totally okay. I was only off by a few months. Completely fine. Per-fect-oh. Yup. Definitely. Okie Dokie._

"...two-thousand and five." She finished with worried eyes trained on me, looking for any negative body language.

"Oh. Okay." I squeak, holding in my instinctual yelp of fear and panic. It would move on eventually, I wouldn't remain concussed for too long and then my confusion would leave and the date would come back to me. I just had to remain calm. I just needed to remind myself that mixed up facts were normal with head trauma. The only problem was, I didn't feel confused. I was completely certain in my words.

I shook my head to rid myself of the thought, concussions messed with recollection. I may feel certain now but reality would slip back, it was just a bit of a mind bend at the moment. "Yeah," I start with conviction. "Okay, two-thousand and five, got it."

Kaoz opened her mouth to say something, but the words were stuck in her throat before her lips sealed themselves shut. This continued for a few moments before her body went rigid with determination, even as her eyes shined with unshed tears. "Terra, there is something else."

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

I was now in London. I had moved here when I was promoted and asked to take over as assistant manager to one of the restaurants here, or so I was told. I couldn't remember any of that. Then there was my parents...

My parents weren't the best of parents, they wouldn't be winning any awards but they weren't the worst either. Most of all, they were mine. Often they forgot my birthday and disapproved of my gap year after high school- wouldn't shut up about it actually and to perfectly honest, I wasn't the best of daughters either. There were many times I could have called or took a twenty minute drive to pop in and see their faces. It wasn't as if I really couldn't so much as I just simply didn't.

My parents were dead.

Supposedly since I was sixteen.

They were innocent bystanders, walking along when a car hit them and drove off. A hit and run.

The thought was numbing, like lead sitting in the base of my lungs and ice lining my stomach walls. It was cold, too hot and everything was too loud and far too quiet at the same time. It had been almost three hours since Kaoz had told me the news and it was illogical to hate head trauma, but in that moment I did. If I wasn't concussed I would've only had to feel this pain once, three years was enough time to heal wounds or for me to at least forget about them.

I woke up in a hospital with parents. I left it an orphan.

Someone once said that grief was like an ocean- Harrison, I think. Grief is like an ocean; it comes on ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm and sometimes it's overwhelming, all we can do is learn to swim. Someone else said that real loss was only possible when you had something you loved more than yourself.

My favorite was always Tony Judt: Loss is loss and nothing is gained by calling it by a nicer name. Now more than ever did it make sense to me. I wasn't drowning or learning to swim in an ocean of calm or tidal waves so much as halfheartedly paddling and wishing that I would somehow forget how to swim, to allow myself to grieve. The truth is, above all else, I was guilty.

I should be falling into hysterics, crying my heart out- whatever it is that the mourning did these days but I wasn't. The news had felt like a shock to the system and there was certainly pain in my hearts but to me, the death of my family only felt like a possibility, not a reality. It seemed as if it were just three weeks ago I was conversing with my mother about her wants and needs, all the while trying to explain the concept of selfies with my-

I-pod.

My _I-pod._

Whose current model wasn't invented until 2012: the I-pod touch.

It was a stupid thought, but it stuck out. Clearly my own mind was messing with me again, the dates trying to rearrange themselves in my mixed up head. Still, it wouldn't go away and hesitating to voice my paranoia and indulge my own insanity but unable to leave it as it was I called out to Kaoz, who looked at home in the distantly unfamiliar apartment that was apparently mine.

"Chaos?" She looked at me, a silent question in her eyes. I cleared my throat, "Do you have an I-pod?" I try to ask casually and ultimately, passing.

She gave a confused smile. "Yeah, latest model, you know that."

"Right." I nod, "Do you mind if I have a look at it?" I didn't know why it persisted but alarm bells rang out in my head, imploring me to carry through my odd investigation.

"Not at all." Kaoz put down the book she was reading, some trashy romance about a mechanic and a rich girl- Billy Joel anyone?- and walked to my unfamiliar kitchen where her handbag sat on my blue retro bench. Digging through its contents she rummaged for the item as I took the time to walk into my bedroom.

It was my kind of room, posters of my fandoms up on the wall, a bookshelf full of the classics and others. It was messy and honestly, somewhat familiar as it held the same kind of atmosphere all my bedroom had ever held but what stood out to me, was my lack of doctor who related, well, anything. "Chaos? Where are all my Doctor Who things?" I call out.

She appeared in my doorway as I sat on the bed. "Doctor what?"

I giggled, "Not Doctor What, Doctor Who." She continued to look confused. "You know, the show about a mad man who travels through time and space in a police box? The one I'm absolutely crazy about?"

She shook her head in a negative. "Nope. Anyway, here's my I-pod." She held it out to me and I could practically feel the blood drain from my face. My hands took hold of the small and bulky object with its eye catching bright green plastic cover. It wasn't the sleek silver model that sat in my own handbag. Or did it? Was my mind making that up too?

"Excuse me," I muttered distractedly as I breezed past Kaoz, her confused expression not registering in my mind as I made a beeline straight for my bag.

Not stopping I picked it and kept walking, the I-pod in my other hand and the bag in another. I kept walking until I made it to the bathroom I remembered from my earlier tour of the place and locked the door behind me, ignoring Kaoz's confused questions. With calm I honestly didn't feel I unzipped the handbag, slowly, as if I had all the time in the world and tipped it upside down, watching as everything clattered to the tiled floor.

A loud but dull thud alerted me to a heavier object making contact with the ground. I kept my eyes on the wall, not looking down until I had successfully counted to ten, twice. There with the standard issue apple earphones wrapped around its slim body, was my I-pod that shouldn't exist. Still oddly calm, I unwrapped the earphones and turned it on, entering my pass-code and giggling, a tad hysterically when the small unlocking sound clicked and I was meet with the time and date.

 _2:55, Wednesday, 6th May, 2015_

My body slumped against one of the walls. "Holy shit, I'm not crazy." I touched a hand to my head thoughtfully, "Or concussed either."

Entering my gallery I was relieved to find photos of me with my parents, all of which were dated accordingly and if that wasn't enough, one shot featured a new 2015 calendar in the background. "Oh dear god, I don't know whether to be excited about travelling in time or freaking terrified." I whisper to myself.

I thought about it, technically, my parents were still alive, but not here. Did that mean I was in a different dimension? A parallel world? Did I switch places with my parallel self because two of me couldn't be here at the same time. Was she in my place, in my world? Or was she sent to another time so we wouldn't come into contact with each other? More importantly, did this version of her not like Doctor Who? It would explain the lack of merch. If that were the case, she obviously had no taste.

"Let's see, all in all, not so bad." I smile, sitting up to stare into the long wall mirror and speak to my reflection. "I mean, Terra, we have a job here, we have a Chaos, an apartment. All we need is a puppy and it's happy living. Don't you think?" I nod to myself. "Great."

"Great!" I repeat. "Fucking amazing, this is the balls! The amazing balls! Time travel! Just call me Doc Brown."

"Fuck yeah!" I scream, because, I was a fangirl and honestly, we found this shit amazing, not terrifying. "2005, American Idol, again. How I met your mother finally invented the _Legen...wait for it...dary._ " I listed, honestly getting excited. "The start of Brangelina, Carrie Underwood gets fame, Destiny's Child breaks up. Oh! Got to see their final concert."

"What else, Ewan Mcgregor is a hot Obi-wan Kenobi." I paused, then groaned. "Damn it, now I have to wait eleven years to see the new Star Wars movie."

I sighed but quickly perked up, "Kristen Wiig is discovered. I wonder if I can meet her before she gets famous? Then there's Facebook's expansion, MySpace's decline. Four days from now Eris, the dwarf planet will be discovered. Canada becomes an even greater country, Camilla and Charles' engagement, YouTube is launched in the US, Bulgaria and Romania join the European Union, the Huffington post, the Knight of Sainte-Hermine is published one hundred and thirty-five years after the authors death, Spain legalizes same-sex marriage, the sixth Harry Potter book."

"Oh my god, the Wedding Crashers, I'm going to see the Wedding Crashers in the cinema. Pride and Prejudice with Kiera Knightley. So much. So much!" I clap a hand over my mouth to stop my loud giggles. "And this time I'm actually old enough to appreciate it." I look to my reflection once more, "Except Destiny's Child's breakup, we all took that badly."

But Beyonce needed to leave the cocoon and become the other worldly goddess she is in 2015. Seriously. She's got to be an alien.


End file.
